


Memories Get Erased (Then I'll Get Replaced)

by mtn_dew_red



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) Actor RPF, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Gay Michael Mell, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jeremy Heere & Brooke Lohst Friendship, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Squip Jeremy Heere, Squips (Be More Chill), This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtn_dew_red/pseuds/mtn_dew_red
Summary: After the SQUIP, michael feels unimportant to Jeremy, and he reflects on their 12 years of friendship.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Brooke Lohst, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42





	Memories Get Erased (Then I'll Get Replaced)

"Haha, Jerry, you're so funny!" Brooke giggles, laugh obnoxiously fake and forced for the sake of saving Jeremy's ego. Michael glares across the small table they were sat at, absently picking at a plate of sushi, having no appetite. Brooke fakes wiping the corner of her eyes for added effect to her pity laugh. A sour taste wells up in Michael's mouth. Jeremy's joke WAS funny. It deserved a real laugh-- like the one Michael had given-- not Brooke's half-assed, thirty-seconds-too-late guffaw. 

Jeremy beams at her, resting his head on his hand and eating a piece of orange chicken. "Thanks, I try." He says, a light blush dusting his freckled nose and cheekbones. That made Michael's stomach turn. He wasn't one to be the jealous type, but… HE used to make Jeremy smile like that. No one else. Just him. 

This just wasn't right. It must be illegal. 

Michael forces a smile onto his face, straightening his glasses, which had begun to slip down his nose. "Hey, so, did you see the new trailer for 'Apocalypse Of The Damned: 4'? I heard they hired an entire new team specifically for the graphics! They're supposed to be, like, hella high quality." 

Jeremy barely even spares him a glance, poking his fork at another piece of chicken and pushing it around his plate in an attempt to pick it up. "Oh. That's cool, yeah." He comments dryly. Michael's heart and smile drop. Brooke takes note of this, placing her hand on top of Michael's. "Yeah, Mikey. That's super, uh… très bonsoir!" 

Michael wants to cringe at Brooke's poor attempt at the French language, but he can't bring himself to hurt her feelings. "Thanks, Brooke." He says instead, giving a small nod and directing his attention back to the plate of nigiri sitting in front of him. Somehow, he was even less hungry than before. 

Jeremy chews, turning excitedly to Brooke and quickly swallowing so he can talk to her. Was this what Michael was, now? A third wheel in their friendship? He knew that they'd be distant after the SQUIP incident, but Jesus H. Christ… not this distant. He felt like he was being completely ignored. Michael briefly thinks about how optic nerve blocking him again would hurt less than this. At least then, Jeremy couldn't see or hear him. Here? He was being purposefully pushed aside

"Did you see Jenna's hair? She like, dyed the front part pink." He says to her. Michael wants to gag. God, his best friend was starting to SOUND like the people he hung out with, too. That stereotypical gossip tone made Michael feel like throwing up. Brooke nods, giggling obnoxiously. "Yeah! It looks good on her, don't you think?"

The two of them sound like annoying birds, Michael thinks. Two annoying, chattering birds. He forces a piece of sushi into his mouth, busying himself with chewing so he doesn't spontaneously combust. Jeremy and Brooke continue to talk back and forth, and Michael sits and listens, stomach churning. 

Jeremy finishes his food, standing to throw it away before coming back to the table. Michael chokes down the last of his own plate, doing the same. "So," he starts, ready to get out of here and put an end to this third-wheeling. "You guys ready to go?"

Brooke and Jeremy look at each other, and then to Michael. He hated the apologetic look on their faces. It made him feel like a kicked puppy. A charity case. "Oh, uhm, actually… Jeremy and I were gonna shop around a bit. We've got prom coming up, so I need a dress…"

Michael waves a dismissive hand, faking a genuine smile. "Oh, no worries. Go ahead. I can hang here while you guys shop." He says, feeling like he could cry if he weren't so determined not to. Jeremy puts a thin hand on Michael's shoulder, and Michael debates on shrugging him off, ultimately deciding against it. "You sure, man? You can come with?"

Eugh. And put up with more of THAT? No thanks. He'd rather listen to Taylor Swift on repeat. "Nah, it's chill. You kids have fun." He jokes, trying to get a smile out of Jeremy. It doesn't work. "If you say so, man. Thanks." Is all he says, heading off with Brooke and leaving Michael alone in the food court. This had been happening a lot recently: being left alone. 

He shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket, shoulders slumping as he sighs. He felt… unimportant. Unwanted. He remembers how close he was with Jeremy before he took the pill- every night after school was spent in Michael's basement bedroom, thrashing about on bean bags and playing video games until their thumbs hurt. 

They'd get stoned down there on occasion, swatting smoke out of the air when one of Michael's moms would come down the stairs. And then, when Jeremy was ready to head home, Michael would spray him down with febreeze, making sure to mask the smell of the drug as to not alert his dad. 

He thinks about the one time they were down in Michael's basement, talking about anything and everything. Somehow, the topic had migrated to Jeremy's sexuality. That was the night that Jeremy told Michael he was bisexual. Michael had hugged him, he remembers, and when he pulled back, Jeremy had kissed him. The taller, skinny boy had grabbed the sides of his face, placing his lips on Michael's with purpose. 

Michael had kissed him back, remembering how the two of them migrated to Michael's bed, pressing the fronts of their jeans together and panting in the dim light of the television. He remembered how Jeremy had looked at him. He's never seen that sort of look from him before or since. Jeremy, his hair a mess, freckled cheeks flushed crimson and gripping Michael's tanned arm as sighs and gasps made their way past his pink lips. His eyes were half-lidded and clouded over, and he'd trembled when Michael moved down against him. They'd never talked about it after that, and it never happened again, but Michael never forgot. He never moved past the way that night made him feel. How much the sheer thought of it made him flush and made his knees go weak. 

He couldn't help but wonder if the memory of that night made Jeremy feel the same, or if that meant nothing to him- just experimentation. 

Michael swallows thickly, turning to walk out of the mall. He sits in his car, head resting on the steering wheel and trying to collect his thoughts. Maybe it was better this way. 

He'd been replaced.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! This was yet another prompt I recieved on my twt so I went ahead and scrambled to write it :') I like angst, man. It makes me cry. Comments are appreciated!


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